


In All His Forms

by HauntedByDayDreams



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Body Worship, Chubby Katsuki Yuuri, Domestic Fluff, Eros Katsuki Yuuri, Established Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Implied Sexual Content, Married Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Plus he's just really thirsty, Supportive Victor Nikiforov, VictUuri, Victor really wants Yuuri to love himself, Victor wants to fix that, Yuuri Has Self-Esteem Issues, a chubby yuuri is a happy yuuri, bc katsuDAMN, probably more fluff than smut, victuuri trash is me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 09:13:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11756673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HauntedByDayDreams/pseuds/HauntedByDayDreams
Summary: "I want you to feel every bit as lovely as you are, moyo solnyshko," Viktor croons as Yuuri's fingernails scrape and bite into his back.And for just a little while, Yuuri does.--A oneshot where Viktor loves Yuuri's body in-and-out of season.





	In All His Forms

"We're not going to do anything you're not comfortable with."

Yuuri is on his knees on the end of their shared bed, his face seared with heat and colour as his eyes fixate nervously on first his hands in his lap, then the lamp beside the bed; on anything but Viktor, sitting up at the headboard, distancing himself from Yuuri like he'd done something wrong. On anything but Viktor's wounded expression he was desperately trying to hide.

"No, no, it's not that," Yuuri insists guiltily as Viktor tries to cover himself a litte more with the blankets. His face burns even hotter, and his fingers rake over his closed eyelids, pushing up the glasses he's yet to take off, as his head drops in shame. "It's not that I don't... want..." His voice catches, and it's all he can do to stop the embarrassed tears from spilling over onto his cheeks. 

Yuuri doesn't know what he'd expected from himself. In all his years, he'd never wanted his first time to be like _this_. He was embarrassing himself in front of _Viktor_ , who, quite understandably, couldn't be feeling very turned on by the anxious lump holding back tears at the end of his bed.

Viktor manages to surprise Yuuri when his palm comes to rest on Yuuri's jaw, his ring cold against Yuuri's hot skin, the pad of his thumb rubbing idly at his cheek and catching the first of his tears as they fall.

"Solnyshko, tell me what hurts you," he whispered, his voice genuinely empathetic. And Yuuri is reminded all over again of just how ridiculous he's being; it's not like this is the first time Viktor will have seen him naked. Hell, it's not even the first time they'll have both been naked _together_. But there's something so much more intimate, and vulnerable, about this, and Yuuri realises that he's never become as comfortable in his own skin as the ostensible conclusion others may reach watching him skate.

But as Yuuri manages to look up, his eyes scraping up along Viktor's delicate jaw, over his porcelaine features, up to his worried eyes, he's already made a decision; one that could make or break everything for him.

"Vitya," he says, leaning forward so that his lips ghost over Viktor's ear. They both shiver in nervous anticipation. "Please... don't look at me any differently after this."

Viktor takes his shoulders and pushes him back into his line-of-sight, his gaze severe and scolding. "Yuuri, I could never see you any other way than I do right now," he whispers in a low voice. "Can you not see it in my face that I'm telling the truth?"

Yuuri can.

He crosses his arms over his shuddering chest, grasps at the hem of his shirt, and tugs it over his head before he can think too much.

Once his shirt is off he moves on to his pants; he has to wiggle and shift his hips to shimmy out of the tight waistband, and in the act his boxer briefs are tugged down, as well. 

Yuuri hesitates with his thumbs tucked into the waistband of his underwear.

Viktor, who has been watching in a stupefied, reverent silence, places his hand atop Yuuri's. "If you're not comfortable with this..."

Yuuri doesn't let him finish. He strips quickly, throw the last article of his clothing on the floor behind him, and resettles on his knees, eyes squeezed shut, white noise buzzing in his head.

Viktor's lips at his ear startle him; his breath tickles his earlobe as the older skater whispers, "You're as beautiful as I already knew you were, Yuuri."

Those words ignite a fire in Yuuri belly, and he lunges forward impulsively, arms around Viktor's shoulders, and throw them both down into the heap of pillows and sheets (pausing only to discard Yuuri's glasses on the nightstand). They mold into a seamless kiss that seems to stretch into infinity until Viktor manages to roll over on top of Yuuri, pinning him against the mattress.

Contradicting what Yuuri expected, Viktor spends the next ten minutes scouring every inch of Yuuri's body. Pressing loving kisses on the raised stretch marks that Yuuri hates so much; splaying his fingers and palms over the chiseled muscles that only an athlete can have; and paying special attention to the tender skin of Yuuri's inner thighs.

"I want you to feel every bit as lovely as you are, moyo solnyshko," Viktor croons as Yuuri's fingernails scrape at and bite into his back.

And for just a little while, Yuuri does.

***

"Yuuri, it's time for bed," Viktor says sternly, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Yuuri looked up at him sheepishly from where he sat cocooned under a military's worth of blankets, a solitary hand appearing from its folds to pause the movie he'd been watching.

"I thought you were asleep already," the younger skater admits in a contrite tone. "You should have told me if the TV was keeping you up."

"It was the coldness of the bed keeping me awake," Viktor says seriously. "I've waited for you long enough, and you need sleep. Come."

Yuuri hesitates with the remote still in his hand; his eyes flickered between the screen and Viktor, as though weighing his options, before he sighs and sheds his turtle shell of blankets. Beneath it all, Viktor notices with a tight frown, Yuuri was, as per usual these past couple weeks, wearing a baggy hoody and looser-yet sweatpants. It was a good look on Yuuri, he admits wryly to himself, but he was unable to appreciate it when worries of Yuuri's self-esteem plagued him.

If that's what this was. But there was one surefire way of finding out.

As Yuuri follows behind Viktor, dragging with him his pillow he'd been sitting on and leaving the snoozing Makkachin in peace, Viktor stops in the doorway, leaning against the doorjamb and pulling Yuuri with him.

Yuuri gasps, losing his pillow as well as his balance as he topples against Viktor, his cheek smushing against his husband's bare chest. "Vit-Vitya--!" he cries in surprise, trying to disentangle himself even as Viktor pulls him in with his legs and arms alike.

"Yuuri," he whispers sultrily in his lover's ear, relishing his success as his action illicts a shiver from Yuuri. "You haven't been intimate with me in over a week. Do you no longer find me attractive?"

Yuuri looks stricken as he manages to pull himself away. "N-not at all! I mean, that's not it!" He subconsciously wraps his arms around his waist, then seemed to take account of his action the same time Viktor did; embarrassed heat rushes to his face as he drops his arms.

"Have all those pork cutlet bowls put a little bit of extra padding on my own little Katsudon?" Viktor smirks, not unkindly, and teasingly pinches at Yuuri's belly before he could shove his arm away. Yuuri's brows pinch indignantly.

"Viktor, please!" His hands ball into fists at his sides as he takes another step away, his gaze falling to the floor. "It's bad enough to be putting on weight like this, but if you start making fun of me--"

"I wouldn't dare," Viktor said with innocent, wide eyes; he lifts his hands, palm facing outwards, to show he has no ill intentions. "Didn't I tell you I love katsudon?"

Yuuri blushes even harder.

"Viktor, I..." He sighs despondently. "I've been too embarrassed to tell you I've been gaining weight." _And that you wouldn't find me attractive any longer._

"It's the off-season," Viktor shrugs nonchalantly, his eyes never straying from Yuuri's own as though trying to convey his honesty through ESP. "We've been locked inside, watching TV and ordering take-out every day. You were bound to gain some extra mass."

"Yeah, well," Yuuri said, his voice defensive even though he has no one but himself to defend against, "I don't blame you if you don't want to look at me like this. I promise I'll start working out-- start running in the mornings again--"

"That's very good and all," Viktor says, his voice slipping into a low timbre once again, "but why don't we start by exercising inside, tonight?" 

Yuuri wants to sink through the floor and disappear. "Not- not when I look like this! You can't want that!"

"Would I be asking for something I didn't want? Besides-- I've seen you in your piglet stage before, Yuuri, remember?"

"B-but... This is different!" And it was to Yuuri. Before, Viktor had been his coach, pressuring him to get back in shape for the sole purpose of competitive figure skating. But now... Now Viktor meant a lot more to him than he ever did as naught but his idol, and Yuuri couldn't bear the fatal blow Viktor's disgust would inflict on his fraying psyche.

"Yuuri..." Yuuri looks up in surprise. When had Viktor gotten so close again? "Don't you believe I've never lied to you?"

Yuuri swallows thickly around his dry tongue and finds himself unable to answer; not that he needed to.

"Then don't believe your insecurities more than me." Viktor's fingers were grasping the hem of Yuuri's sweatshirt, and he should stop him, he really should--

But he doesn't. Yuuri stays frozen in place as Viktor pulls the garment off over his head, and continues to stand shockstill as Viktor steps back to drink in the sight of him.

Yuuri was painfully aware of every too-soft portion of skin, of every distended segment of his belly and heavier curve than normal. His fingers twitch, wanting to cover himself, but Viktor's hands lurch to hold his wrists in place as though reading his intentions.

"Yuuri..."

Here it was, here was the moment when Viktor would voice his repulsion, would regret all of those late-night-dinners and movies and immediately start Googling the nearest gyms...

"You're gorgeous, Yuuri," Viktor says, stepping forward to pull Yuuri flush against his chest.

Yuuri falls apart in his arms, and Viktor continues to patiently hold him together.

Later, when the lights were off and their bare skin tingled where it met under the sheets, Viktor holds Yuuri close and cupped his hands over Yuuri's swollen belly.

"How can you love even a part of me that I hate?" Yuuri mumbles sleepily, his eyes hooded in the dark.

"Hm..." Viktor ponders the question for a moment in quiet reflection. "I suppose it's because... Well, let me put it this way. _This_ ," he says at last, puncutated with a poke at Yuuri's tummy, "is our visit to the fancy chocolate store last week. Remember how unexpectedly cold it was that day?"

"You gave me your coat, saying your _Russian blood_ would protect you," Yuuri smiled. "You wouldn't stop shivering, but you wouldn't take the coat back, either. That's why we went into the shop in the first place."

Viktor's eyes sparkled at the memory. "And this," he said, snaking his hand downwards to squeeze at Yuuri's thigh, "is from dinner two weeks ago, when your dessert ended up in your lap when the waiter tripped."

"That was terrible," Yuuri laughs.

"You apologised more to _him_ then he did to _you_ \-- and he was the one to do the dropping!"

"I didn't know how else to handle it."

"All of this," Viktor says fondly, wrapping his arms around Yuuri's soft waist, "is precious memories that you shouldn't regret. Ramen in front of the TV. Katsudon with Yurio. Skating season is still a ways off-- you have time to indulge yourself and time enough to regain your form. But no matter what form you take, you'll always be _moyo sholnyshko_. I'll always love all of you, and want to hold you close."

"You're such a hopeless romantic." Viktor can hear the smile in his voice. "I love you, though."

Viktor snuggles closer to him and presses a kiss to his tousled hair.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! This was my first fic like this, so let me know what you thought and if I should do another like it.


End file.
